


Live and Thrive

by teacupsandtime



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cabin Fic, Domestic, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: Hannibal and Will in a cabin in the winter.





	Live and Thrive

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing is simply my ideal season 4 opener. That's it.

Will’s footfalls were heavy on the frozen, unyielding ground as he continued his run down the narrow, unkept path. His breath was loud and steady - a rhythmic inhale and exhale. Increasing his speed, he leapt over the fallen branch in front of him and landed with a slight bend in his knees as he continued on.

The condensation of his breathing puffed from his lips like a momentary fog.

His body was warm in spite of the bitter cold, insulated by his running tights and long sleeved pullover. Everything around him was brown, and grey, and white; the dead trees reached out like bony fingers, grasping at nothing.

Bare.

For a moment, the frigid world around him seemed to cave in; he felt small and exposed. There were eyes on him. Not slowing his pace, Will turned his head. He expected a shadow - a monster - on his tail.

But he was alone.

As the shape of the cabin came into view he began to slow his pace, encouraging his heart rate to decline. Will came to a gradual stop just outside the door, pulling his right leg up and behind him and grabbing his foot with his right hand, stretching, before he repeated the same action with the other leg.

He lingered on the porch for a moment, waiting for the shadow to reappear. When it did not, he turned and walked through the unlocked door. Walking into the kitchen he quickly gulped down a glass of water before thumping up the wooden stairs into the bathroom. The water from the shower head slowly warmed - steam obscuring his reflection in the mirror - as he peeled out of his sweat slicked clothes and tossed them into the wicker hamper.

Will opened the glass door of the shower and stepped in; the hot water tickled him as he moved under the stream. A small moan escaped his lips as he felt the warmth move all down his body, his skin quickly turning pink. He picked up the bar of lemon scented soap and brought it to his nose, inhaling before he worked it into a slight lather.

When the last of the slick sweat and smell was gone, he turned off the water and carefully stepped out. 

He could smell sausage and coffee. 

With a towel around his waist he walked to the bedroom, leaving faint, wet footprints behind as he dried and dressed in long cotton pants and an oversized sweater. Sliding on a pair of socks he headed back down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Will.”

Hannibal turned from the stove quickly to greet him before putting his attention back to the small pot of quinoa boiling on the stove.

“Morning,” he returned. “Can I help?”

“You may pour coffee if you’d like. This is nearly done.”

Will stepped close and watched as Hannibal spooned some quinoa into the thin egg mixture that was spread across the large skillet. The small tricolored grains sank evenly into the yellow liquid as he added pieces of tomatoes, cooked spinach, and goat cheese.

“How was your run?”

“Cold,” Will answered as he reached up and took two black mugs from the cupboard. “The lake is probably several inches frozen by now. I bet I could get out there and ice fish soon.”

Hannibal worked the spatula around the edges of the solidifying egg mixture before he folded it over itself. As it continued to cook, he plated the sausage from the smaller pan next to it and placed it on the counter next to the stovetop.

“You should come out with me sometime,” Will continued as he poured the rich smelling coffee from the pot. Hannibal had sometimes joined him on his summertime visits to the lake but never in the winter.

“Perhaps,” Hannibal said as he turned the burner off and placed the omelet on two plates along with the sausage.

Taking the mugs to their small, wooden table Will took a seat as Hannibal set his plate in front of him. His hand came to rest on the back of Will’s neck for a moment before he pulled back and moved to sit across from him.

Will struggled not to ravenously devour the meal to appease his growling stomach.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

The wood burning stove in the main room popped and crackled. A sudden gust of wind shook the fogged windows.

“Storm’s still on track?”

Hannibal swallowed a piece of sausage and took a small sip of the black coffee.

“Yes,” he said. “The report this morning indicated that it would be bearing down on the area by noon.”

Will nodded and wrapped his hands around his mug, the ceramic dispensing a liquid warmth through his fingers. It was then that he noticed the plastic container on the counter, half full with raw dough.

“Are you making bread?”

“Yes,” Hannibal answered. “Garlic and the last of the rosemary. It should be ready around lunchtime.”

Be it a bourguignon, osso buco, ratatouille, pozole, or a simple, long simmering stew - something was always cooking in their small kitchen. Thus far in their secluded life Will had provided nearly all of the protein for their meals; Hannibal went into town once a week for groceries to compliment what Will had hunted or fished.

Will would frequently sit and watch him glide around the kitchen as he prepared their meals, a glass of red wine usually nearby. He always wore an apron though Will had never seen him stain it. Sometimes he would enlist Will to sous chef and watch with an approving eye and barely concealed pride as he worked alongside him.

“You really should come out with me sometime,” Will said as he took a sip of his coffee. “Once the storm’s over. Everything is still - serene. I can show you how to drill through the ice and bait fish in the winter.”

Hannibal looked up from his omelet and smiled.

“I would enjoy that.”

Will smiled back and finished what was on his plate.

Outside, the snow began to fall.


End file.
